We've Got Tonight
by SantittanyForever
Summary: Everyone knew that Santana and Quinn hooked up on the night of Will and Emma's wedding. But no one knew the real story behind the hook-up. No one but them. Slightly angsty smut. Mentions of Brittana/Faberry.


Santana giggled flirtatiously, confidently arching one eyebrow as she waved her fake ID in the bemused barman's face.

"The name's Rosario Cruz." She drawled, smiling lazily.

Quinn copied her actions, whipping out her proof of identity and thrusting it forwards, introducing herself as Emily Stark.

The man furrowed his brow slightly, as if he was deliberating the authenticity of the girl's confident words. But eventually he just gave a casual shrug and a nod, signalling them to place their order. Santana grinned slyly, turning to Quinn and gesturing with a wide sweep of her hand for the blonde to order first. Quinn smirked, quickly requesting an exotic-sounding mix, Santana then ordering the same seconds later.

They wandered off to the side, leaning up against the bar, Santana bringing her drink to her lips and sniffing timidly.

"Jesus Quinn, this stuff is strong."

Quinn simply smiled, raising her glass to Santana before knocking the entire drink back in one gulp.

Santana quickly imitated Quinn's actions, and as the acrid drink hit the back of her throat, she winced slightly, torn between enjoying the burn sliding tantalisingly down her throat or blanching at the sour after-taste that followed. She settled for the latter, blindly downing the rest of her drink before picking up the mixing cylinder and shaking it above her head wildly, egged on by Quinn's excited chants of, "Shake!"

* * *

An hour later, and it was safe to say that both girls were completely and utterly smashed. They had danced manically until it felt like their feet were going to fall off, their happiness only interrupted when Santana caught occasional glances of Brittany in Sam's arms. She also noticed the slight shift in Quinn's face whenever the blonde's eyes came to rest on Rachel, but decided not to say anything; she didn't want to ruin the night by bringing up past feelings and memories.

As Rachel and Finn took to the stage to sing their duet for the night, Santana gazed at Brittany, experiencing that all-too-familiar feeling of her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach, her body ablaze with fury and jealousy. She turned quickly and grabbed Quinn's hand, pulling the startled blonde out onto the dance floor with her.

"Wha-"

"We're going to dance." Santana stated simply, bringing Quinn's hands to rest around her waist, her own arms looping gently around Quinn's neck.

The blonde froze for a moment, eyes darting over Santana's face, before relaxing into Santana's embrace, leaning forward and resting her head gently on the brunette's shoulder. Santana inhaled sharply at the sudden close proximity, realising that she hadn't been this physically close to someone since Brittany. But she closed her eyes and shut off her mind, refusing to let her thoughts wander to the enigmatic blonde who was dancing mere feet away with a guy who looked more like her brother than her boyfriend.

They danced like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of being held by someone they cared about. Fuelled by the alcohol they had consumed earlier, Quinn leaned back, taking a deep breath before speaking honestly, a wry smile adorning her angelic features.

"You know, I've never slow danced with a girl before."

Santana cocked her head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, waiting to hear the rest of the sentence, the words loaded on Quinn's lips, just waiting to tumble out.

"I like it."

She felt reassuring warmth settle in her stomach then, the feeling was… nice. It comforted her. It was then that she realised just how close she and Quinn had become over the past year. She smiled softly at the blonde, before pulling her back in, immersing herself in the feeling of Quinn's heartbeat pounding steadily. Sure, maybe this wasn't the blonde she wanted to be holding in her arms tonight; but Quinn certainly was a great friend, and there was a history between them that fabricated almost an unbreakable bond between them. To put it simply; both girls needed someone there tonight, and powered by the confidence afforded to them by vast amounts of serotonin and alcohol, they had found comfort and solace in each other.

* * *

Quinn blinked rapidly, her disorientated brain making it difficult to focus on anything. But her vision eventually cleared slightly and she scanned her surroundings, frowning as she realised where they were.

"San, what- how did we get up to this room?" she slurred, flopping down onto the bed with a soft grunt.

"I think we used the elevator." Santana mumbled, hopping on one leg in a misguided attempt to remove her shoes. As expected, she had absolutely no sense of balance in her current state, and suddenly stumbled to the side, tripping over her own feet before collapsing onto the bed, landing practically on top of an inebriated Quinn, who let out a surprised groan at the sudden unplanned attack.

"Saaaaaaan." She whined, attempting to push the Latina off. But she pushed a little more forcefully than was necessary, and somehow ended up flipping Santana over. The brunette, in a drunken haze, had a panicked thought that she might be flung off the bed, and so she grabbed Quinn's arms, dizzily unsure of her intentions but aware of the fact that grabbing something might stop her from falling. The end result of all this was Santana flat on her back on the bed, with Quinn practically straddling her, their faces near enough that Santana could gaze right into Quinn's hazel eyes.

"Oh." Quinn breathed.

Both girls lay in silence for a heartbeat, neither one sure of what to do, their thoughts and inhibitions clouded by confusion and liquor.

Quinn then moved to get off Santana, but the Latina held her in place, locking her eyes onto Quinn's.

"Wait." She breathed. "That was- I mean, this is- I haven't had affection with someone in so long-"

Santana was muttering inaudibly, stumbling over her garbled words. But Quinn seemed to understand what she was saying, and so lay back down atop the brunette, resting her body in between tan legs. Santana then felt a sudden rush zap through her body as Quinn's thigh accidentally connected with her most sensitive area. She gasped involuntarily, Quinn arching once eyebrow curiously.

"Santana?"

The Latina blushed, averting her gaze.

"It's just- it's been so long since- I haven't-"

Quinn silenced Santana by pressing a sweet kiss onto her plump lips.

"You don't need to explain to me. Just tell me what you want." Quinn whispered, the alcohol raging through her body making her feel daring and bold.

Santana looked at Quinn, her expression a conflicted mixture of longing and trepidation. But she craved this; the closeness, feeling connected to someone on such an intimate level. She hadn't felt anything in such a long time; she had been enveloped by this emptiness ever since she had broken up with Brittany, but now, maybe there was a way to momentarily fill that emptiness, even if it was only for tonight.

Santana threaded her fingers through blonde locks, pulling Quinn down towards her, kissing her passionately. Quinn let out a soft moan as Santana's hands travelled down, massaging her hips with her thumbs before her fingers were creeping up Quinn's waist, coming to rest on the small of her back.

Suddenly, Quinn was once again on her back, as Santana flipped her over and began ravishing her neck, peppering smooth pale skin with kisses, suckling on Quinn's pounding pressure point until she was adorned with a striking purple bruise. The Latina began pulling down Quinn's dress, pausing for a second to marvel at the blonde's small yet gratifying breasts.

"Well well well, hello Miss Fabray." She snickered, eliciting a giggle from Quinn.

Santana then set to work once again, latching onto Quinn's nipple, drawing out a breathy whimper from the blonde who was currently writhing beneath her.

"Oh- I need- I want you to-" Quinn panted, sweat beading on her forehead as she grasped the bed sheets, fists clenched, eyes glazed over.

Santana understood, trailing her hand down Quinn's flat stomach until it was resting in the place where Quinn needed her most.

"Please."

Quinn's request came out a broken sob, and both girls then knew that this wasn't just a drunken hook-up at a wedding. This was a way for them to feel close to someone, to feel that comfort, that intimacy that they had both desired for so long. Santana paused for a moment before slipping her hand beneath soft material, really feeling Quinn for the first time.

The blonde gasped as Santana's fingers grazed her, arching up into the brunette's soft touch. Quinn's desperate whimpers spurred Santana on, and so her ministrations grew as each moment passed, from tentative touches to confident strokes.

Quinn's gasps soon turned into loud moans, as she rotated her hips in time with Santana's strokes and thrusts.

"Yeah baby, just like that. Oh Rachel!" Quinn cried, not even registering what she had said.

"You can call me anything you like," Santana gasped, too lost in the moment to care, before reaching up and capturing Quinn's parted lips in a searing kiss, pushing her that little bit further until the blonde was crashing over the edge with a loud yelp.

Quinn's head flopped back onto her pillow, her breath coming out in short, sharp pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Santana crawled up and curled next to her, resting a tan arm across a pastel stomach, finding the contrast of their skin tones somewhat mesmerizingly beautiful.

"You called me Rachel." Santana stated simply, watching Quinn curiously. "I thought you said you were over that? Now that she's living with Brody in New York and whatever."

Quinn sighed, tracing mindless shapes onto Santana's arm with dainty fingers.

"I thought I was. But seeing her tonight… it just brought back all of these feelings, feelings I thought I'd buried long ago."

"You're preaching to the choir there Q." Santana sighed.

Quinn frowned sympathetically, lacing her fingers with Santana's.

"I know seeing Brittany with him is hard, San. But just think of it like this; she's graduating this year, and at the rate he's going with his grades, he probably isn't. And do you really think Brittany is going to want to wait around Lima for a year for some loser she barely even knows? I don't. I think she'll realise that she belongs with you, and she'll hop on the first flight to New York and forget all about that froggy-lipped wannabe funnyman."

Santana tilted her head up, smiling at Quinn gratefully.

"Thanks Q. And you know, I overheard Rachel saying that she and Brody aren't even exclusive. You still have a chance there Q, and Berry would have to be either ridiculously stupid or criminally insane to pick Finn the cabbage patch kid over you."

Quinn gave Santana a tiny smile, ducking her head to plant a soft kiss on the Latina's forehead.

"Thanks San."

Santana snuggled into Quinn's chest, reaching down to hoist the duvet up, wrapping it around their intertwined bodies.

"Anytime Q. It's like we always say; we're the Unholy Trinity. We're sisters for life."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." Quinn replied softly, her voice cracking delicately.

Just as Santana's eyelids began to droop shut, she looked up at Quinn one more time, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped from its hazel prison onto the blonde's flushed cheek.

"I love you Q."

"I love you too San."

And with that, both girls fell into an easy sleep, feeling safe, secure, and ultimately, loved, for the first time in a very long while.


End file.
